


What Happened After Venice

by Zaffie



Series: Most Of This Series Does Not Actually Take Place In Venice [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: And Now They Are Making Mistakes, And Ward Is Being Kinda Douchey, Damn It Ward, F/M, In Which Skye And Ward Continue To Be Weird, Skye Is Sad, They Failed At Being Normal, They're Both Having Emotional Crises, This Is A Sequel Ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaffie/pseuds/Zaffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's still not smut. Ignore anyone who says I write smut. I think we should get #ZaffieSmutShaming trending on Twitter please.</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Alcune Persone Non Imparano Mai

For the second time in two weeks, Ward wakes up to a naked Skye in his bed.

     Honestly, he could probably blame Coulson for this one. It was Coulson’s idea to park the bus outside some tiny Australian town and buy them all a round (or several rounds) of drinks to celebrate. Ward remembers how much their drunkenness had seemed to amuse the locals, who all seemed to wear wide-brimmed hats and talk in a broad accent that he could barely understand (although that could have been because he was drunk).

     Truthfully, though, the difference between this time and the last is that this morning, Ward isn’t hungover (well, not badly). This morning, he can remember every detail of last night in crystal clarity. He stares at Skye’s back and wonders what they’re going to do now.

     Abruptly, she snorts, rolls over, and falls out of bed. Ward hears the thud as she hits the floor, followed by a grumble of pain.

     “Skye,” he says quickly, while she can’t see him. “Don’t freak out.”

     There’s silence from the floor, and then Skye’s head appears over the edge of the bed. She stares at him with wide eyes in an elfin face surrounded by a cloud of hair and Ward tries to smile, awkwardly.

     “Crap,” she says. “Bugger. Damn.”

     “We don’t have to tell anyone,” Ward says quickly.

     She stares at him, and then she stands up and starts grabbing her clothes. Ward watches as she tugs on underwear and fastens her bra. She picks her jeans up off the floor and shakes them out.

     “This can never happen again,” Ward says as she steps her legs into the jeans and hops a little to pull them up.

     Skye fixes him with a cold, narrow-eyed look as she turns her shirt inside out and pulls it over her head. She pulls her hair out of the collar, puts her ugg boots on her feet and then yanks a hooded jumper on and walks towards the door.

     Right before she gets there, Ward says, “Skye?”

     She turns around, hair spilling out of her hood, framing her face. “What?”

     He doesn’t know what, so he says, “Nothing,” and watches her walk out.

 

Ward’s leaving the hotel when he bumps into May – literally. She looks over her shoulder and glares at him.

     “Sorry,” Ward apologises.

     She glances around, and then leans closer and says, “I’m surprised I didn’t see you in my room last night.”

     Ward grimaces before he can stop himself. Was she expecting him? He’s really screwing everything up right now (and screwing every _one_ but that’s really not something he should feel proud of). “I was exhausted,” he lies. “I just crashed.”

     May nods. Ward has the horrible feeling that she doesn’t believe him – or maybe he’s just being paranoid.

 

After they’ve all boarded the bus and taken off again, bound for who-knows-where, Ward finds time to pull Skye aside.

     “What?” she asks. She’s mad at him. He doesn’t know why. “Haven’t we already covered the ‘accidental sex’ speech?”

     “Just… the same rules apply,” he tells her. “You can’t talk to anyone about this.”

     She seems to deflate, just a little bit. “How did we even let this happen, Ward?”

     “We were both drunk,” he offers.

     Skye shakes her head. “That’s not a good enough reason.” She frowns. “Look, just stay away from me for a while, okay? I need a break.”

     Ward’s offended, although he tries not to show it. “Sure,” he says callously. “That’s fine by me. I could ask May to train you if you want.” The second he offers, he regrets it. That would absolutely prove to May that something is going on. _Damn._

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s a good idea then,” Skye snaps at him. “Ask her.”

     “I don’t know why you’re acting like this is my fault!” Ward snarls. “It’s not like this was one-sided. It takes two to tango, Skye.”

     She scoffs. “I can’t believe you just said that. It takes two to tango? Really?” Ward shrugs, and Skye steps forward and pokes him, hard, in the chest. “Listen, _buddy_ , you kissed me first. And everyone knows that if someone kisses me while I’m drunk then I’m going to kiss them back.”

     “I did not!” he protests. He searches his mind, remembers staring at Skye sitting next to him at the bar, her lips wet with beer, laughing, tossing her hair over her shoulder. He leaned in and… oh.

     “You did,” Skye insists.

     He looks at his feet. “Fine. I did.”

     Skye sighs heavily. “It’s like you said this morning, Ward. This can never happen again. So you need to stay away from me.”

     He watches her walk away and his throat feels tight. He’s done something very, _very_ wrong.

 

“Sir,” he tries. “I was wondering if May should take over Skye’s training for a bit.”

     Coulson just stares at him. “Is there something going on between you and Skye, Ward?”

     “What? No! Of course not.” He’s lying through his teeth. “But we were talking about what it’s like being a woman in SHIELD, and I thought – I can’t really teach her about that. And I’m sure it’s a very different experience, so I thought-”

     “It sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of deep thinking about this,” Coulson says wryly.

     Ward winces, and thinks, oh god, he knows. “Sir, it’s just that-”

     He’s interrupted again. “It’s a fine idea, Ward. I don’t have a problem with it. Why don’t you suggest it to May?”

     “Uh, I was hoping maybe you could do that.”

     Coulson looks meaningfully down at the stack of papers on his desk. Ward takes the hint, and backs out of the office.

 

“Coulson suggested that you train Skye for a while,” he tells May, seeking her out in the cockpit. “So that she can get… you know, a different experience.”

     May looks at him coolly. “Coulson said that.”

     “Yes.” Ward is racking up an incredible tally of lies today.

     “All right.” She looks away from him into the wide open blue of the sky, and Ward knows he’s been dismissed.

He goes down to find Skye, but she’s not in the lab. “Where’s Skye?” he asks Fitz.

     The engineer shrugs. “I don’t know.”

     Ward groans, and then says, “Tell her she’s going to be training with May for a few weeks, okay?”

     Fitz looks puzzled, but Ward dashes upstairs before the other man has a chance to say anything.

     Honestly, Ward just doesn’t feel like any more lies right now.


	2. Tutto È Stupido E Fastidioso

Skye thinks about talking to Simmons, but she doesn’t know what to say. _Hey, I slept with Ward again, and this time I wasn’t even that drunk?_ No.

     She’s feeling kind of listless, honestly. After the whole drama of the last time (and she’d kissed Ward, too, and she’d thought that _he_ was the one who was scared of commitment) she doesn’t want to go through this again.

     This time, though, she remembers finding a condom in Ward’s wallet (and it’s just a dick move to keep one there anyway) and holding it up to him triumphantly. So _that’s_ something to be grateful for.

 

In bed, she lies on her back with her hands behind her head and thinks that she really doesn’t want to go to training with May tomorrow.

     She also wishes that she could forget last night. It’s stuck in her head like one of those catchy but _horrible_ songs that you just can’t shake.

 

Skye trains in the morning.

     She was right to fear this, because May is just as terrifying when she’s being a temporary SO – if not more so. Also she has the uncomfortable feeling that the older woman is probing her for information. Skye wonders if May knows about her and Ward.

     At some point, she starts wondering about _May_ and Ward. Maybe it’s when Ward jogs down the stairs to the lab and May stops and stares at him with an expression that almost predatory. Like Ward has something that she wants.

     “Did you request this?” May asks her when they wrap up.

     Skye startles, because most of their training has been done in silence. “What?”

     “The SO change. Was it your idea?”

     “Oh.” She pauses, then says, “No,” because technically Ward did suggest it first. She just agreed, with a large degree of enthusiasm. May doesn’t need to know that.

     The older woman frowns. She says, “Hm,” and then she walks away.

     Skye lets a relieved breath brush past her lips and goes upstairs to shower.

 

Fitzsimmons corner her at the door of her bunk.

   “Tell us what’s going on, _Skye,_ ” Simmons says, and it really is creepy, the way she emphasises Skye’s name.

     “You could be in a horror movie, you know,” Skye tells her. “The freaky British girl. They always need those characters in horror movies.”

     “We know something’s up,” Fitz chimes in, glaring at her.

     “Yes,” Simmons agrees. “Tell us.”

     Skye leans away from them, frowning. “No.”

     “Tell us, Skye,” Fitz says.

     “Guys!” she exclaims. “What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?” She flounces between the two scientists and into her bunk. It would be more satisfying if she could slam the door behind her, but it just sort of slides closed with a _thunk_.

     Skye sighs, then presses her ear to the door and hears Simmons saying, “I _knew_ there was something going on with her.”

     “Go away!” Skye yells, hammering on the door with the flat of her hand. “This is my bunk and I need privacy!” She feels like a teenager again. Privacy was one thing that was damn near impossible to find in foster care. Things improved after she ran away, of course; but she was only sixteen and life on the street was just as hard in different ways.

     She’d felt like having a baby – raising it right – was somehow going to mend the broken pieces of her past. As if it would heal all the wounds.

     Obviously, that’s not how life works. She doesn’t have a baby, and even if she did, who’s to say that it would be her redemption? It would be a catastrophe. It’s only in her mind that having a family makes everything better.

     Skye’s always been good at examining her own thoughts, which is probably why she’s not digging too deeply into the motives behind her last… incident with Ward. She knows what she’ll uncover.

 

In the morning she sees Ward in the kitchen as she’s on her way to make breakfast, so she changes direction immediately. She wanted a shower before she ate anyway, she tells herself.

     She doesn’t see him at all while she’s training, but that’s fine. It’s not like Skye was looking for him or anything.

     May looks her up and down when they finish. “Is something wrong?”

     “What? No,” Skye protests.

     “You’re distracted.”

     “Yeah, I’m always like this. A little bit ADHD or something, I don’t know.”

     May shakes her head. “No. I’ve seen you train with Ward. I know you can focus.” She frowns, and then she says, “Skye, is something bothering you?”

     “Nothing,” the younger woman insists.

     “Is it anything to do with Coulson?”

     Skye scoffs, “No.”

     May shrugs. “Don’t talk, then. But I’m here if you need me.” She strides off before Skye has a chance to say anything.

     “So,” Skye says to herself, “ _May’s_ obviously a pod person.” She taps her finger against her lips and stares into space.

     Fitz pops up behind her like an unwanted monkey. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

     Skye jumps, and swivels. “What are you doing?” she asks. “Are you following me?”

     “No,” he says airily. “Not at all. Are you ready to tell me and Jemma what the problem is?”

     Skye growls, “Go away,” and flounces off up the stairs.

    

She runs into Ward outside her bunk, which officially bumps this day up to _awful_ status. He clears his throat nervously.

     “If you’re about to say something,” Skye snaps, “then let me save you the trouble. _Don’t._ ” She brushes past him and his stupid, offended face and into her bunk, where she falls facedown into her pillow and wishes she could disappear.


	3. Notti Insonni

In the middle of the night Ward’s bunk door opens.

     He struggles to prop himself up on his elbows and starts to say, “May,” but someone cuts him off with a finger against his lips.

     “Ssh,” whispers Skye. “Don’t talk.” She bends over him and her hair falls down around their faces like a curtain. “I’m sorry I was mean to you,” she says.

     “That’s all right,” Ward stammers. He can’t believe she’s in here. What is she doing?

     Abruptly, she bends over him on the bed, her hands on either side of his head, and kisses him slowly.

     Ward knows he isn’t drunk right now. He doesn’t think Skye is drunk right now, because her movements are too co-ordinated as she climbs onto the bed and kneels above him, straddling his hips.

     She pushes away from him and sits up. There’s a dim silvery light streaming in through Ward’s open window, and Skye is illuminated. She doesn’t look quite human in this light; she’s otherworldly and ethereal with her dark hair streaming down her back and framing her face. Her eyes are black, and they burn into him with a fierceness that he can’t explain.

     “Come here,” Ward says thickly. He sits up and reaches forward, sliding his hand up underneath her tank top to rest against the smooth, warm skin of her back. Skye tilts her head as their lips come together again.

 

Skye leaves early.

     Ward’s still half-asleep, which means it must be _really_ early, but he feels it when her warmth leaves his side. He hears her getting dressed, and then the bunk door opens and closes and she is gone.

     He misses her straight away.

    

Ward passes her coming out of the bathroom as he makes his own way to shower. She avoids his eyes and hurries past him.

     They barely talk all day, but at dinner she asks him to pass the peas and she sounds polite and casual and totally _normal._

     Ward’s hand trembles as he gives her the bowl. He can’t shake the images of last night out of his mind – the way her skin shone in the moonlight from outside the plane. She was perfect. She is still perfect.

 

He has to call things off with May. He’s sure of it, now that he and Skye have had sex while sober.

     Unless Skye wasn’t sober. He should probably confront her about that. Tonight. Under cover of darkness, obviously, because he doesn’t want the rest of the team getting the wrong idea.

    

She wakes up fast when he comes into her bunk. She’s a light sleeper, just like Ward.

     “Were you drunk?” Ward hisses.

     “You were kissing me, idiot,” she tells him. “Did I taste drunk?”

     Somehow he ends up coming closer and pinning her to the bed and running his mouth along her collarbone. He tries to tell himself that this wasn’t the only reason he came to her bunk tonight.

     In the morning, he’s the one who has to grab his clothes and sneak out. He hates to leave Skye lying there, sprawled on her back with her hair messy around her face and the sheets low on her chest. She’s beautiful. He wants her.

 

Fitz sidles up to him the next day, when he’s down in the cargo hold with the punching bag.

     “Ward,” the man starts.

     “Fitz,” Ward returns, evenly. He and Skye haven’t actually _talked_ at all yet. He has no idea what she might have told Simmons (and, by extension, Fitz) although he hopes his fraternisation threats are being taken seriously. They make him feel bad. He tries to ignore it.

     “Something’s going on,” Fitz says. “Skye’s acting weird.”

   “Is she? I hadn’t noticed.”

     “As her SO-”

     “May’s training her right now,” Ward reminds him. “We’ve both been really busy. We haven’t really had time to… talk.” We’ve been too busy having sex, he thinks, and feels an overwhelming urge to laugh. Oh god, he’s turning into Skye. Is this what happens when you have a secret relationship with someone? You _become_ them? Help.

     “Are you laughing?” Fitz asks suspiciously.

     “Absolutely not.” Ward struggles to keep a straight face.

     “Hm,” Fitz says. He turns and bustles off, and Ward has a horrible feeling that the scientist is going to go straight to Simmons; his other half. He really doesn’t want his life becoming public gossip on the plane. This has got to stop.

 

He’s convinced that he can stop it right up until Skye is in his bunk that night, pressing her body against his. Ward thinks about saying ‘stop’ and ultimately decides it’s not worth it.

     He thought he had more willpower than this.

     Skye wakes him in the morning, when she has to leave. “Ward,” she says gently, and he realises that he’s clinging to her like a limpet – one leg slung over her hip, his arm tight around her ribcage, just below her breasts.

     “Sorry,” he murmurs, and he moves away and lets her get up.

     It can’t happen again, he tells himself, as he watches her dress and leave.

 

It’s going to happen again, Ward realises, when she walks behind him in the kitchen and trails her hand across his shoulder and his whole body shivers with anticipation.

 

He can’t sleep that night. He tosses and turns and waits for Skye.

     When she doesn’t come, Ward goes to her. She’s sitting up in bed and waiting for him and her clothes are already on the floor.

     “Hi,” she says. Her voice is husky.

     Ward wonders if this means they’re supposed to take turns. He decides he doesn’t care. He climbs into Skye’s bed and presses his cold fingers against her side until she squirms and laughs breathlessly.

 

Ward leaves the room at 4 AM. He crawls back into his own bunk and realises that, all together, he’s probably slept for about two hours. This isn’t good enough.

     He manages to sleep again, but has to get up at 6 AM because that’s when his body clock demands that he starts the day. He fumbles his way through the morning in a sleepy, dizzy haze. He can’t bring himself to train, and he sees Skye in the cargo hold with May and feels a stab of real relief that he is not the one down there right now.

     Also, Skye is getting in trouble. Oops.

     They can’t carry on like this. They might have to talk.

     Nope, Ward thinks. No talking. He screws up when they talk. The meaningless sex every night is fine by him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still not smut. Ignore anyone who says I write smut. I think we should get #ZaffieSmutShaming trending on Twitter please.


	4. C'È Qualcosa Nell'Armadio Di Skye (È Simmons)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for PurpleHipposRock because it is her birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Thank you for being such a dedicated and awesome reader and commenter :)

Skye is exhausted.

     Also, it’s worth noting that her plan of ‘not sleeping with Ward’ is in flaming shreds and she doesn’t even care.

     Truthfully, she should probably be punishing him for all the lying. Because yeah, Skye knows that he’s been lying. She’s not stupid, she has eyes – and better than eyes, she has a general sense of other people, of their body language and words and what those things might mean. So May and Ward is something that she picked up on pretty fast.

     She’s not sure about the fraternisation policy that Ward keeps mentioning, but she’s done some digging around SHIELD and found no mention of it. It’s pissing her off that he’s lying to her without even a flicker of conscience. She should probably withhold sex or something to make him miserable.

     Instead, she finds her way into the bathroom while Ward’s showering (because she figured out how to jimmy the bathroom lock on her first day on the plane. You never know when you might need a skill like that) and takes off her clothes.

     “Skye?” Ward asks. She’s pleased that he said her name first, because at the rate he’s going, she wouldn’t exactly be surprised if he called out for Jemma. Or even Fitz.

     Okay, that was mean. That was a mean thought. Skye steps into the shower – and man, she’s short compared to Ward, and she kind of wishes he was sitting down on a bed again. She puts her hands on his shoulders and stretches up on her toes to kiss him.

     When Ward slides his hands down to grip around her hips, Skye pulls back. She says, “You’re a huge dick, you know.”

     Ward frowns. “Is that supposed to build my self-confidence or something?”

     “Not you _have_ a huge dick, you moron. You _are_ a huge dick.”

     Ward takes a step back – hard to do in the confines of a shower. “Is this a serious conversation?” he asks quickly. “Because I’m not sure if this is the time or place for a serious conversation.”

     Skye thinks about it, because she hadn’t really come in here to insult him – it had just sort of slipped out. “You’re right,” she says. “But I want to talk to you afterwards.” She reaches for him and he steps closer again until they are pressed together. Skye stares at his eyes, and for a second, everything is slow and beautiful and romantic.

     She shakes the feeling off. She doesn’t want romance – this is meaningless sex, nothing more. Ward has made that pretty clear. She runs her hands up his chest and kisses him again.

 

Skye is sitting on the edge of her bed, towelling her hair dry, when the knock at the door comes.

     “Yeah,” she calls out, because she’s been expecting Ward.

     The slender, short figure that slips inside isn’t Ward, though. It’s Jemma.

     “Skye,” the English girl says quickly. “We need to talk.”

     “I need to talk with lots of people right now,” Skye sighs. “I’m expecting company, Jem.”

     “Is this about Ward again?” Jemma frowns. “You can tell me, you know that, right?”

     “No, I can’t.”

     “Has he threatened you? Skye.”

     “It’s nothing, it’s just…” someone knocks. Skye curses. Then she says, “ _Jemma_.”

     “What?”

     “It’s _Ward.”_

     “So?” Jemma props her hands on her hips. “I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”

     “No!” Skye hisses. She jumps up off the bed and shoves her friend towards the closet. “Just stay in there, all right?”

     “What in the world? Skye!”

     “And be quiet!” Skye snaps, and then she closes the closet doors and pulls open the door of her bunk to see Ward.

     “Hi,” he says awkwardly.

     “Hey,” Skye returns. Her mind is still focussed on Jemma stuck in the closet behind her, so she’s probably not as uncomfortable around Ward as she should be. She closes the door behind him and says, “First off, I know about May.”

     Ward stares at her with round eyes. His mouth opens into a silent ‘O’ of dismay. “You do?”

     “Yeah,” Skye says. “I don’t walk around with a blindfold on or anything. It’s hard to miss.” She pauses, recapturing her train of thought, and then continues, “Secondly, I know there aren’t any fraternisation rules. But, come on, you know I’m a hacker. You saw that one coming.”

     “I did,” Ward admits. “Skye, I’m-”

     “If you’re going to say you’re sorry, then save it,” she snaps. “I’m not sure what _this_ is that we’ve been doing, but it’s time for it to stop. You need to work some things out.”

     “I know,” he says hopelessly. He slumps down onto the bed. “I know.”

     “Decide where your loyalties lie,” Skye continues ruthlessly, and for some reason the words make Ward jerk his head up and stare at her in shock. “You’re going to have to choose some time, Ward.”

     “You’re right.”

     “I’m not finished, don’t interrupt.” Skye takes a deep breath and says, “Either you need to end things with May, or whatever this is between us has to stop. Maybe both. You _have_ to stop lying. Be honest with May. She deserves that kind of respect. Don’t come to my bunk again. The next time the plane stops over somewhere, maybe don’t drink so much. Stay away from me. I’ll stay away from you.”

     Ward takes a deep, hitching breath. “I love you,” he says.

     Skye laughs. “No, you don’t. You’re just saying that now because it makes you feel better about your behaviour. Fix this, Ward. This is a mess that you’ve created. Make it better.” She puts her hand under his arm and hauls him to his feet. “Go on, go. And remember what I said. Don’t come back here.”

     “Skye,” Ward says miserably, but she pushes him to the door.

     Just as he’s leaving, Skye says, “Oh, and Ward? You can tell Coulson you’re ready to train me again now.”

     The bunk door closes behind him and Skye takes a deep breath and faces the closet. She’s going to have a _lot_ of explaining to do.


	5. Nel Fiume

It’s been two months since the last time Ward and Skye had sex, and he’s remembering that so clearly right now because she is just so damn _close_ to him. He’s got her pinned up against the wall, his forearm pressed into her throat, his fist wound into her hair and pulling her head back. This is not a time to be distracted, but Ward _is._ All he can think about is the softness of her skin under these clothes, and the softness of her flesh under that skin.

     Well, not all of her flesh. Her stomach is taut with muscle, which he can feel intimately because his knee is pressed hard against it. Skye’s eyes shine bright as she stares up at him, even though he’s pretty sure he’s choking her. Ward waits.

     He feels rather than sees when Skye’s knee comes towards his groin, and he rolls his eyes and tugs her hair, just slightly, to make her stop and pay attention to him. “We’ve been over this,” he says. “That’s a good improvisational move, but it’s going to be completely useless if your attacker is a woman.”

     “You’re not… a woman,” Skye wheezes out. Ward doesn’t loosen the pressure against her throat, because he hopes it will discourage her from talking any more.

     “That’s beside the point. Come on, Skye. Remember what I taught you. Feel the way I’m standing. I’m off balance.” He is, with one knee tucked up and his other leg close to Skye’s feet.

     She twists in his grip, but she’s not achieving much. “If I knock you,” she gasps out, and Ward moves his arm, just slightly, because this sounds like something that is actually important, “you’ll yank… a handful of my hair out as you go down.”

     “So then, can we agree this is a successful pin? Should I just start putting on flyers that Skye is too terrified of someone hurting her precious hair to fight back?”

     “Don’t be… sarcastic,” she huffs. “Doesn’t… suit you.” And then she winds her foot around his calf and yanks.

     Ward doesn’t budge. “Wrong _side_ ,” he groans. “Honestly, Skye.” Right now, he really should release her and step backwards, so that they can run over basics again. He should. He’s about to. He’s going to let go.

     Skye looks at him, and he knows she understands. She sees that he’s having trouble moving. That he can’t let her go. “Ward,” she says gently, and it’s the raspy whistle of her voice that finally makes him move.

     He pulls away and steps backward with a gasp of pain, because it actually physically hurts, to tear himself away from her. Skye stares at him with soft, gentle eyes, as if she’s about to reach out and lay a comforting hand on his shoulder or something. She doesn’t, though, and Ward is glad, because that would only make it harder.

     Embarrassed, now, he clears his throat and says, “Okay, run through these drills with me again.” He reaches out with his foot and taps her left leg. “Lift it up.”

     Skye does, bringing her foot up until the sole of her shoe is pressed against the inside of her thigh, through her jeans. Ward prods her shoulder a couple of times until she loosens up, swaying at his touch but not falling.

     “Okay,” she says, because they’ve done this drill before and she knows the routine. “My centre of gravity is… um.”

     He sighs, and then reaches out and prods a point just above her right hipbone. “Here,” he reminds her. “So, logically…”

     “If you push me to the _right…_ no, wait, _left.”_

     “I don’t understand,” Ward mutters. “Are you dyslexic or something?”

     Skye snorts. “No. I just… have issues with left and right. Okay? Gosh.”

     He places his palm on her right shoulder and shoves, and she topples sideways, laughing and throwing her left leg out to catch herself. “Okay,” Ward says.

     “Wouldn’t it work just as well if you pushed me the other way?”

     He groans. “No. Come on, Skye, think about it! You can rock onto the outside of your foot and still support yourself, right?”

     She tries it, like he knew she would. “Right.”

     “But it’s a lot harder to hold yourself on the _inside_ of your foot. So that’s why I push that way.”

     “Okay,” Skye says, and he thinks she finally gets it. “Okay, yeah.”

     “I’m going to pin you again,” he says, and of course, as soon as the words leave his mouth he stops being able to focus on training and starts only thinking about her body again. _Stop_ , he commands himself.

     Skye steps back into the wall and Ward positions himself – arm beneath her throat, forcing her chin up, hand wrapped in her hair. He pushes his knee up and into her stomach and she says, “Careful.”

     “Of what?”

     “I don’t know. My spleen, or something.”

     “Your spleen is under your ribcage. You need an anatomy class,” Ward mutters. He shifts until his foot is comfortable, and then he leans all of his weight on it, which isn’t actually what he would do if he was pinning someone like this for real. Still, it’s helping Skye learn, and that’s the important part.

     This time, she wraps her leg around his leg and _pulls,_ and he shoots sideways, exactly like he should. He’s already released Skye’s hair before he’s fallen even halfway, and he catches himself with both arms on the ground, strong and sure. “Good,” he says as he gets back to his feet. “Very good.”

     They stand across from each other. “So, are we done?” Skye asks.

     “Yes.”

     Neither of them move. Eventually, Skye says, “Are you okay, Ward?” Her voice is soft and sympathetic and he hates it. He doesn’t want her sympathy.

     “I’m fine,” he snaps, and knows that he’s being unfair.

     Skye rolls her eyes. “Whatever. If you want to keep fighting, we’ll keep fighting. But you know you brought all this upon yourself.” She flounces off towards the lab, and Ward sees Simmons waiting by the doors.

     He _does_ know that he brought this upon himself. That’s what makes him so damn angry. It’s his own fault and he’s furious about it, because he wants someone else to blame.

     The rest of the bus is barely talking to him. He showers after training and passes May on the stairs. She ignores him; not in her normal casual way, but in a pointed, deliberate manner that makes it clear to him that he’s not wanted. At the dinner table, Fitzsimmons talk exclusively to Skye. Even Coulson is distant, although that might just be because he’s busy. Coulson has had a lot on his plate lately.

     The thing is, even while Ward wants to be furious with the rest of the team, and _pretends_ to be furious with the rest of the team, he still understands that this is his own fault. It’s just his stubborn pride which is preventing him from making peace. It would be _so easy_ , but there’s a block in his thinking and a frustrated pain in his chest every time he tries.

 

Fortunately for him, Skye’s not the kind of girl who holds a grudge. She’s always reaching out, giving him olive branches and bridges that he turns away from, time after time. Still, no matter how often he rebuffs her, Skye never gives up.

     Simmons is quite honestly the most furious with Ward – fierce in defence of her friend – so he’s startled when she comes to find him one morning when the bus is on the ground. They’re parked somewhere in the English countryside, and he’d expected Fitz and Simmons to already be off skipping over the mountainside, or something. Instead, Simmons is standing outside the door of his bunk with her hands propped on her hips, trying hard not to look too threatening.

     “Skye wants to go for a walk with you,” she says, in a voice which makes it pretty clear that Ward better damn well go on the walk _or else_.

     “Um. Okay?”

     “She’s waiting outside,” Simmons says. “Go on.” She steps back and watches sternly as Ward leaves his bunk and walks towards the stairs. Right before he heads down to the cargo bay, she adds, “I expect you to be _very_ nice to Skye today.”

     Ward cannot understand how someone so short and English can force so much threat into their voice, but he is _terrified_. “Yes,” he agrees immediately. “I will be nice. Thank you, Simmons.” He hurries down before she can change her mind and come after him.

 

Skye is standing outside, wearing a red dress that he thinks he recognises and soft brown boots. “Hi,” she says, and holds out one of her hands towards Ward in a gesture that is so implicitly simple and welcoming that he can’t bear to refute it.

     “Hi,” he replies, and he takes her hand and she smiles and tucks herself close to him, so that their legs brush as they walk. She clutches his arm with her free hand.

     The hill is green and gold and they stride through the grass as it parts like waves around them. It’s sunny, but not exactly warm. The air is crisp and clear and perfect and there is a solitary bird warbling in the distance.

     Skye looks up at him. “I’m glad you came,” she says.

     Everything around Ward is shining in the sunlight; even Skye. Especially Skye. He says, “I’m sorry.”

     “You haven’t been _that_ bad,” she tells him. “It was just a little temper tantrum.”

     He laughs, because that really is exactly how he’s been behaving. “You were right,” he elaborates. “Everything you said to me before was right.”

     “Get used to saying that,” Skye tells him smugly, and then she releases him and grins, says, “I’ll race you!” and starts to run.

     He’s not going to let her get away with that, of course, so he chases her to the bottom of the hill where she falls to the ground and rolls in the grass and laughs, mouth wide, eyes squeezed shut, hair flying around her. Everything about her is so joyful and overwhelmingly happy that Ward drops to his knees beside her and pokes her in the belly to make her keep laughing. He doesn’t want this to stop.

     Eventually, though, she bats his hands away. “Tickling is unfair!” she cries, calling him out on it, and then he helps her to her feet and they walk again, holding hands, breathing in the scent of summer and sunshine and grass.

     “I’m happy,” Ward says suddenly. “I’m happy now, with you.”

     “You don’t have to sound surprised about it,” Skye giggles. They’re walking along the bank of the river that winds along the bottom of the hill, chuckling and gurgling as it rushes past, little ripples plashing against the shore. Suddenly, Skye drops his hand and reaches down for her boots.

     “What are you doing?” Ward asks.

     She grins up at him, mischevious and elfin, huge dark eyes sparkling in a heart-shaped face. “Paddling,” she says, and she tosses her boots on the grass and steps bare-footed into the edge of the water. She shrieks, and exclaims, “It’s _cold!_ ” and then she wades out deeper, until she’s calf-deep in the dark blue water, curling her toes into the sand and rocks at the bottom.

     Ward stares at her. She’s all light and colours, dark hair and red dress and blue water, and she’s not even paying attention to him. She’s picking her way along the river, arms outstretched to keep her balance, a smile plastered across her face as she watches her feet. He loves her. He loves the easy way she moves, and how unaware she is that she’s gorgeous like this. He loves that she’s not posing; she’s just playing in a river and he happens to be there watching. He loves the way she seems to smile with her entire body.

     “Skye,” he says, and she stops and raises her head, balanced in the water, the light turning strands of her hair to gold and that joy still spread all over her face. There’s a gust of wind that raises ripples on the water and blows Skye’s hair and dress to the side and makes her look wild and free.

     “Ward,” she responds, and then she laughs and the sound rises above the sound of the wind and the water and she says, “I’m pregnant.”


	6. La Storia Di Pip

May had said, firmly, “There will be no babies on my bus,” and Coulson had added that he was inclined to agree with her.

     “It’s dangerous,” he explains, looking at Skye.

     She sighs, because it’s no good arguing, and goes to tell Ward the bad news.

     For a couple of weeks, they discuss where they’re going to live – and then things get serious and they don’t have time anymore. Mike Peterson – Deathlok – shows up everywhere they go. They track the Clairvoyant, driven by Coulson’s single-minded determination to find the truth and then _something_ happens at the Hub and they head over.

     On the way, Skye tells Coulson that the Clairvoyant is in SHIELD. She curves a hand protectively around her stomach as they brainstorm.

 

Garrett’s plane docks when they’re halfway. He tries to explain; “Hand fired at me,” and Skye can tell from the look on Coulson’s face that he thinks he’s found his Clairvoyant.

     They continue en route to the Hub, and then Ward comes out of his bunk, spots Garrett, and punches him in the face. Hard. He goes down.

     “Ward!” Skye exclaims.

     With gritted teeth and a fearsome expression, Ward looks down at Garrett and nudges the man’s unconscious arm with the toe of his boot. “I chose,” he says, looking back up at Skye.

     She stares at him. “Ward!” It seems to be all she can say.

     “Do you remember a while ago, when you gave me a very long, stern speech in your bunk?” Ward asks.

     Skye thinks about it. “Yes, when Jemma was in my closet.”

     “Jemma what?” Ward asks, and then he shakes his head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. Anyway, you told me it was time to choose where my loyalties lie.” He gestures to Garrett. “I chose.”

     Skye says, “ _What?”_

 

It all comes out after that. How Ward was recruited. How Garrett played the entire team, steadily gaining their trust only to exploit it.

     Jemma asks, “What about Triplett?” and Ward shrugs. He doesn’t think Agent Triplett had anything to do with it. He doesn’t know.

     Coulson and May are very serious after he tells them about Hydra. Ward goes into Coulson’s office and talks. And talks. He doesn’t emerge for three hours, and then he comes out looking drained and haggard and pale.

     “Are you okay?” Skye asks him.

     “Not really,” he says honestly. She appreciates that he’s telling her the truth. She’s furious with him for not telling her about this before. She doesn’t really know what she feels. “Can we talk?” Ward begs.

     “Honestly, Ward, right now I’m hormonal and confused. I don’t think it’s a good time,” she tells him.

 

Once it is determined that SHIELD is gone and Hydra has infiltrated to the very highest levels, Coulson decides that his team will strike out alone.

     “SHIELD still matters,” he tells them all, standing in the briefing room and straightening his tie. “The world still needs us, and I’m willing to offer my services in protection until I die.” He clears his throat. “Again.”

     “Hey,” Skye says easily, “you know I’m with you to the end, AC.” She holds out her hand and he passes her badge back. “I feel like I should say the team motto or something but all I can come up with is ‘Thunderbirds are go’.”

     “Point taken,” Coulson says. “We’ll get a team motto.”

     One-by-one, the rest of them murmur agreement and promises of loyalty. Ward is the only one who doesn’t speak. Later, Skye asks him why.

     “I already told Coulson my motives,” he explains. “I always plan to be by your side. He doesn’t need me to confirm it again.”

     “I need you to confirm it,” Skye whispers, and then she kisses him. “Promise me I can trust you.”

     Ward takes a deep breath. He holds her hands, and then he looks at her belly, and then he looks at her eyes. “You can always trust me,” he says, and she believes him.

     Well, she almost believes him. But complete trust is something that comes with time.

 

When Fury sends co-ordinates to his secret base, Jemma, with relief, exclaims that this is a good place for Skye to give birth.

     “You should stay here from now on,” she recommends.

     Skye rolls her eyes. “Jemma, I have four-and-a-half _months_ of pregnancy left. I am not going to be grounded.”

     True to her word, she stays on the plane with the rest of them. They travel a lot, but it feels different now. They’re always returning to home base. Their missions are secret and time sensitive, and it’s not as easy as it used to be.

     Coulson is struggling most of all. Skye goes to talk to him one day, in the plane’s cargo-hold, and he admits that he doesn’t trust anyone anymore.

     “Not even me?” Skye asks.

     Coulson looks at her with wet eyes and says, “You’re like family to me.”

     Skye grins. “We’re _all_ family, AC. You’re the dad and May is the mum. Jemma’s the sweet older sister and Fitz is the annoying little brother.”

     “And Ward?” he asks. “Where does Ward fit in?”

     She bites her lip and looks down. “I don’t know where Ward fits. I don’t even know what Ward’s thinking, but,” Skye takes Coulson’s hand and places it over her bump, “he’s the father of your surrogate grandchild. So that’s got to count for something.”

     In a stunning act of emotional understanding (or a truly epic coincidence) Skye’s baby chooses that moment to become violently active and kick Coulson’s hand. He gets a little bit weepy, so she leaves him alone with Lola.

     “How is he?” May asks when Skye leaves the plane.

     She twists to look over her shoulder. “He’ll be okay,” she tells May. “Give him time.”

    

Skye’s child is born on a sunny evening in May, in the middle of the bus’ lounge area, because they are flying over the Pacific Ocean when her water breaks.

     “Sorry,” she pants to Jemma between contractions.

     Jemma says, “I _told_ you to stay in the base.”

     The whole team reacts differently, but Skye had expected that. Fitz hides out downstairs in the lab, either because he’s scared of blood or because he’s scared of vaginas. Or both. Skye isn’t really sure. Jemma, on the other hand, is playing midwife for the day. She spends the entire birth right by Skye’s side.

     May stays in the cockpit but she emerges once, briefly, to see how things are going. “You’re brave,” she tells Skye. “Don’t give up.”

     Skye wants to scream that she _can’t_ give up but she _would_ if she _could_. Instead, she tells herself that this is the nicest thing May’s ever said to her, and then she moves on.

     Coulson comes out at the end and sits beside Skye’s head. “Congratulations,” he whispers.

     Ward, typically, was in the shower when the labour started. He stayed there, obviously having a long, luxurious soak, and then emerges towelling his hair dry. He drops the towel when he sees Skye half-lying against the couch and gritting her teeth in pain, and then he screams like a toddler.

     “Really?” Skye asks him through a wave of pain.

     He takes her hand. “It was the shock,” he tries to excuse himself.

     “Yeah, right,” Skye snorts. “What a baby.”

     After that, things move quickly. The entire labour only takes about seven hours, which Jemma assures Skye is quite fast. It seemed to drag by unbearably slowly – but afterwards, looking back, Skye remembers it as a blur.

 

She’s holding her son in her arms when Ward comes into the bunk.

     “Hi,” he whispers. “Coulson wanted to make sure that you were okay to stay here for the next mission.”

     “It’s fine,” Skye assures him. “Baby and I will just stay on the plane while you go beat up the bad guys.”

     In her arms, Phillip yawns. He has huge dark eyes, slightly tilted like Skye’s, and a head of thick dark hair which could come from either of them. He’s the best thing she’s ever seen, with his little upturned nose and his tiny precious ears.

     Ward turns his attention to the baby. “Hi,” he murmurs again. “Hi, Phillip.”

     “Pip,” Skye corrects him. “Phillip is a stupidly long name for such a little thing.” She strokes her fingers down Pip’s little arm and he grabs her when she touches his hand, holding on tight. “He’s amazing.”

     “He’s fantastic,” Ward agrees. “You’re amazing. You’re beautiful. I love you.”

     Skye glances up at him and laughs. “Can his middle name be Awk?”

     “No,” Ward says immediately. “And it can’t be Oops, either.”

     “Well, what, then?” She thinks about it. “Soap? He was conceived in a shower, after all.”

     They sit and muse for a while in silence, staring at their son, and then Ward says suddenly, “He can choose his own.”

     “What?”

     Ward is nodding, eagerly. “Just like you did! When he’s older, we’ll tell him that he can choose his own middle name. A rite of passage, or something.”

     “I’m glad you’re doing this with me,” Skye says. “I’m glad that you stayed, and I’m glad that you punched Garrett out. I’m _so_ glad that Pip was born, even if he was an oops baby.”

     “I’m glad that I met you,” Ward says seriously. “You’ve changed everything for me, Skye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww, and wasn't that just sickly sweet? 
> 
> So, 1x19 was a horrible HORRIBLE (and yet so unbelievably awesome) episode, and I'm finding it hard to ship Skyeward at all now, honestly. Ward is too much of a psychopath for me.
> 
> BUT, since I'm never one to leave projects unfulfilled (LOL that was a huge lie, I never finish stuff) I'm going to work on wrapping up all of my remaining fics and then see if I am suddenly provided with inspiration to start new ones. I am always writing, and I do like writing for here because of the amazing feedback I get, but if I start feeling like I'm writing stuff that has nothing in common with the show except for characters, then I'm not entirely comfortable with it.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the conclusion of this fic and this series! I certainly enjoyed writing it a LOT. I particularly enjoyed making this fic vaguely fit into canon, but fixing Ward so that he wasn't as psychotic. That was nice for me. :D And thank all of YOU for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting so beautifully, both on this fic and on 'What Happens In Venice...'. I have absolutely ADORED all of your support.
> 
> Chapter Translations
> 
> 1: Alcune Persone Non Imparano Mai = Some People Never Learn  
> 2: Tutto È Stupido E Fastidioso = Everything Is Stupid And Annoying  
> 3: Notti Insonni = Sleepless Nights  
> 4: C'È Qualcosa Nell'Armadio Di Skye (È Simmons) = There Is Something In Skye's Closet (It's Simmons)  
> 5: Nel Fiume = In The River  
> 6: La Storia Di Pip = The Story Of Pip


End file.
